


Confessions (of the Christmas Kind)

by dracoismytrashson (JGogoboots)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cabin Fic, Christmas Smut, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Winter, not exactly ON Christmas but almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-08-19 07:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16530125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGogoboots/pseuds/dracoismytrashson
Summary: Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months, but Draco insists on keeping it a secret. Harry's not sure howanythingcan stay a secret when they're in a cabin with their closest friends for a whole weekend. Especially when Draco keeps wanking him off under blankets...





	Confessions (of the Christmas Kind)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nifflers_n_nargles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nifflers_n_nargles/gifts).



> Thank you to C for the awesome beta-ing job! 
> 
> Giftee: I think I managed to hit a lot of your likes in this one so I hope it satisfies! Happy holidays. <3

Harry let out a strangled cry as Ron ran over yet another snow-covered pothole without properly slowing down. Despite his insistence that he was much more skilled with a Muggle car after a summer of practicing with a giddy Arthur while Molly grit her teeth and tightly shook her head on the sidelines, he was as inconsistent of a driver as Harry remembered. Definitely not someone who should be behind the wheel in the middle of winter on sparsely plowed country roads. Nevertheless, Ron had been adamant that the drive would get them all in the mood for a woodsy winter holiday, picturesque scenery passing by the window as they made their way to the cabin.

“RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!” Hermione braced her mittened hands on the dash and whipped her head in his direction with a scythe-sharp look of scorn. She had kept her composure for the majority of the ride, containing every jaw-twitch of concern as best she could in an attempt to be supportive, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Anyone reasonable _would_ under these conditions. “Will you be more careful, _please_?” 

“Oi, we’re all alive, aren’t we? No harm done. Just a bit of a jostle.” Ron winked at Hermione, and her frown intensified.

“Setting the bar for success so very high!” She admonished with a smack to the dash.

“Merlin! If you’re so bloody concerned for our safety, maybe try not distracting the driver?” Ron rolled his eyes but slowed down to twenty miles per hour. “Harry and Draco aren’t making a ruckus.”

“I’m too busy fearing for my life to say much of anything, mate,” Harry confessed, looking out the window at the snow-dusted pines and craning his neck to see if he could catch a glimpse of the cabin in the distance.

“And I’ve retreated to a faraway mental place in an attempt to drown out the anxiety of our impending deaths. When the car flips over, I figure I’ll have a much more pleasant demise if I’m lost in my mind’s happy place,” Draco said drily from the backseat. Harry knew perfectly well that there were other, more surreptitious reasons Draco was too preoccupied to worry about Ron’s dreadful driving. But naturally, he couldn’t say anything about that.

Harry bit his lip and shot Draco a pointed glare as his hand moved away from squeezing Harry’s cock through the denim of his trousers, his fingers now playing with the waistband of Harry’s jeans. Draco smirked back at Harry and mouthed “what?” with irksomely false innocence. Two fingers dipped below the fabric. Harry yelped, the icy touch of cold fingers against his skin a shock to the system that quickly gave way to arousal as those long fingers crawled their way to Harry’s cock. He protectively gripped the blanket covering both of their laps, scrambling to obscure Draco’s movements as much as possible.

“Oh, come off it! I haven’t even done anything reckless for a whole five minutes,” Ron laughed as he misinterpreted Harry’s shout, taking a curve a little too fast. Hermione gripped the side of her door and heaved an exasperated sigh.

“He’s probably on edge just waiting for the next potential disaster!”

The two of them bickered about whether or not they should have just Apparated while Harry and Draco exchanged amused expressions. Hermione vowed to never set foot in a vehicle with any member of the Weasley family ever again, and Ron protested that he was simply _trying_ to give her a romantic weekend.

“Romance can only be achieved if you remain alive long enough to enjoy it!”

As Harry turned back to Draco to silently communicate _when will we get there so we can put an end to this_ , Draco leaned in, the sly git taking the opportunity to torture him while their two friends were occupied.

“You’re going to be so painfully hard by the time we get there. You won’t be able to help yourself. You’ll rush to our room and beg me to make you come and stop the bloody _ache_ coursing through you, but I won’t. You’ll have to be very good and very patient if you want me to take care of you,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear. Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head, and suddenly it didn’t matter that the heat in the car was barely functioning. Harry’s whole body was on fire, and he groaned under his breath as he thought about just how long Draco would keep him in that torturous state. Patience was something at which Draco excelled. He was nothing like Harry in that respect. Harry was impulsive and reactive, a slave to his id as Draco so often pointed out with a smug smile as he denied Harry orgasm for the third, fourth, or fifth time in a row. By contrast, Draco’s composure was unmatched, a remarkable thing that was quickly becoming Harry’s undoing.

Grateful that Ron had chosen a Ford Cortina (barely an upgrade from their Anglia of yore), a relic whose spotty heating capabilities were the least of its problems, Harry tensed underneath the blanket that conveniently hid Draco’s lewd teasing. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes as Draco’s fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping up and down in tight, measured strokes.

Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Draco, shaking his head when he saw that Draco’s placid expression held no hint of what devious things he was doing to him. He almost looked _bored_ , the complete wanker. Harry bit back a moan as Draco’s strokes grew a bit faster, his thumb swiping over the slit on the upstroke, playing with the drops of precome there. Harry didn’t even know his cock had begun to leak until he felt Draco’s fingers skating through the wetness, but _fucking hell_ , it wasn’t surprising. Draco always left him a leaking mess without even trying. And when he did try… Merlin help him, it was unbearably hot. 

Hermione exhaled with relief, startling Harry out of the intoxicating bliss of Draco’s hand around his erection. He turned his attention to the front of the car and noticed that their destination was only a few yards away now.

Draco carefully extracted his hand from Harry’s pants, winding his fingers in the curls of Harry’s pubic hair on the way out, a parting gift just to make him squirm. Harry glared at him, and Draco only smiled sweetly.

Ron and Hermione, seemingly oblivious to the exquisite agony Draco had been causing Harry for the whole ride, opened their doors and headed to the trunk to retrieve their bags. Harry buttoned up his coat, silently grateful for the extra layer of protection from his now ragingly obvious erection.

“You’re the fucking worst,” Harry muttered as he gathered the blanket into a messy pile.

“And you absolutely adore it. One might even go as far as to say you’re addicted to it,” Draco responded matter-of-factly before exiting the car.

Harry opened his door and resisted the urge to fiddle with the near painful constriction of his jeans. This was going to be a long weekend.

 

***

 

Since they Apparated (as Hermione meaningfully pointed out with a scowl), Blaise and Ginny had arrived hours ago. They were already in full winter-getaway mode, an open bottle of wine on the table and a roaring fire alive in the hearth. They were also, Harry noted with an internal eye roll, already all over each other in their typically obnoxious fashion. They’d been together for nearly six months, and everyone around them kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to pass so they would no longer have to walk in a room to find one of them straddling the other, but no such luck. When it came to public displays of affection, the couple was still pushing the limits to new extremes.

Now, Ginny was seated sideways in Blaise’s lap, one arm slung around his shoulders while Blaise nibbled on her neck. The foursome who had just entered shared fleeting glances and raised eyebrows. Business as usual.

“Oh! You’re here!” Ginny jumped up and excitedly hugged everyone. Harry chuckled when Draco’s eyes went wide as Ginny wrapped her arms around him. He cleared his throat and gave her a stilted pat on the back. Harry caught Hermione’s eye, and she ducked her head, attempting not to laugh as well.

“Do you want some wine? This bottle’s about kicked, but there’s plenty more stashed around. Don’t drink the pinot noir on the kitchen counter though; that’s for dinner. I’m making a to _die for_ pork loin tonight. Stuffed with fennel, green apples, onions, breadcrumbs, rosemary, and prosciutto. We’re going to eat and drink until we can’t move.” Blaise got up from the couch and opened an overhead cabinet in the kitchen, retrieving wine glasses for everyone before they could answer. The kitchen was gorgeous, a very rustic-meets-modern vibe in the expertly carved cabinetry made from salvaged wood, marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and an expansive island in the middle. It was a meeting of sensibilities from both of Blaise’s worlds, wizarding and Muggle. Blaise adored getting a chance to cook for his friends and try out new recipes before he decided to add them to the menu of his restaurant. Harry was really looking forward to that aspect of the weekend.

“That sounds amazing, Blaise. And yes, I am in desperate need of a glass of wine, thank you,” Hermione responded with a smile.

“Me too,” The other three answered in unison, looking at each in surprise.

“I had a feeling. How was the drive up here?” Blaise asked with a knowing smile as he poured wine for everyone.

“It was fine!” Ron rushed to say, taking the glass Blaise offered.

“Depends on your definition of fine. I generally draw the line at near-death experiences,” Draco mumbled into his glass.

“Okay, you know what – ” Ron started with a fiery glint to his eyes.

“Let’s not do this.” Hermione stopped him with a firm but gentle hand on his chest. “We all got here in one piece. Let’s just… try to enjoy ourselves, okay?”

Draco and Ron nodded grudgingly. They were civil to each other and were even known to playfully trade snarky jabs when they were both relaxed and had a couple drinks in them. Still, they’d never become _friends_ exactly, and it was one of the many factors Harry stressed about when he considered the possibility of everyone finding out that he and Draco were… a bit more than friendly these days.

As evidenced by the shenanigans in the car, Draco always seemed to get a thrill out of testing those boundaries. It puzzled Harry since Draco was the one who was so insistent that they keep it a secret. Harry had his anxieties and reservations, yes, but ultimately he didn’t like being dishonest with his friends. Besides, he didn’t understand the point of being covert with this. They were going to get caught eventually (especially if Draco kept wanking Harry off in the backseats of cars), and wouldn’t it all blow up in their faces then? Better to rip off the proverbial band-aid now.

“We’re just shagging. There’s nothing to _tell_. Do you run and confess to Hermione about every bloke you’ve let in your pants? Now can we please get to the more pressing matters at hand?" Draco would often say with a grin so salacious it made the pangs of arousal deep in Harry's belly feel utterly volcanic.

Usually Harry would simply say "you're right" or elect not to speak at all. He was too wary of scaring Draco off for good. Maybe he couldn't have him in quite the way he wanted, but something was infinitely better than nothing. Harry intended to keep Draco as close as possible for as long as the gorgeous, witty blond would let him. 

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise sat down and pulled Ginny back into his lap, nuzzling her neck once again.

"If I have to see those two snog for three days straight, I'm going to hex Blaise's bloody bollocks off." Draco raised his glass to Harry. Harry clinked his against it and feigned a smile of agreement. He watched Blaise and Ginny freely displaying their desire for one other without a care in the world and wished that could be him and Draco.

 

***

 

Dinner was a mouth-watering feast of the promised pork loin, seemingly endless quantities of roasted, herbed potatoes and root vegetables, and a dessert of spiced red wine-poached pears. Afterward, they all drank around the living room fireplace until it was clear that wine only made Blaise and Ginny even more handsy.

"I'm tired from the long drive. Think I'd better retire," Hermione said with a conspiratorial smile at Harry. "Did you two ever work out..."

She gestured a bit helplessly at the couch which now had a nearly horizontal Ginny and Blaise on it.

"I think if you're not too keen on sharing a bedroom, you might have to wait a while before this couch is free, mate. And by then..." Ron made a grimace and cracked the knuckles of one hand. "Okay, that’s it. He needs to take his ruddy paws – ”

“Ron! We talked about this,” Hermione warned. “She’s a grown woman in her twenties. You can’t treat her like that anymore, especially when you agreed to go on this trip full well knowing they’d be – ”

Hermione turned to the pair, her nose wrinkling in discomfort.

“Alright, I will agree that this is supremely uncomfortable, but it’s a big house. Let’s just… leave the room instead.”

They all got up and migrated to the study, the affectionate pair not even noticing their departure. It was a beautiful room decorated in rich, dark wood: bookshelves, an elaborate parquet floor, a heavy, antique writing desk, and a maroon couch seated in front of a stone fireplace. Draco took a seat in the big armchair behind the desk, looking regal and commanding as he leaned back and folded one long leg over the other. Hermione and Ron took a seat on the couch.   

"Potter, I've put it to a vote, and you clearly should be the one banished to the tainted couch." Draco arched an impeccably shaped brow and downed the rest of his wine.

"A vote by who?! Draco, Draco, and Draco?" Harry huffed in frustration. This whole facade was so moronic and unnecessary. What was he trying to do? Throw them off the trail by staging a fight about who slept where? When they were alone, Harry wasn't going to let him hear the end of it. He plopped down onto the couch next to Hermione.

"Precisely. Mine is the only opinion that matters."

Hermione surprised Harry by chuckling at that. Harry shot her a look that said _whose side are you on, anyway_ , and she held up her hands.

"I'm staying out of it, Harry. This is between you two mulish boys. Personally, I don't see why you can't share. It's not like there's any reason for it to be... _awkward_ , is there?" Hermione gave Harry a funny look he couldn't quite decipher. He glanced at Draco, who was looking a little green at the moment.

"Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Draco bitingly commented.

"Yeah, good point, 'Mione," Ron chimed in, ignoring Draco and cradling his chin in mock contemplation. "You're both adults, you've been friends for years now, I don't see why this should be a big to do. Just take the room. It's a big bed. Lots of space for... sleeping."

Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion. What the hell was Ron on about? Oh well, no use stressing over it. The important thing was that their friends were making it clear they didn't think there was anything weird about Draco and Harry sharing a room. Maybe now Draco would drop the ludicrous charade, and they could head upstairs for a night in a cozy cabin bedroom, everything outside their window glistening with fresh snow in the moonlight.

"Draco? Are you alright with that?" Harry asked, hearing the fatigue in his own voice. This was so utterly stupid considering that he and Draco had shared a bed dozens of times already.

"Oh, I suppose," Draco drawled, crossing his arms and acting extra put upon, "But if you snore, I reserve the right to smother you with a pillow."

"Merlin, you're insufferable. I'm going up to bed." Harry finished his wine and walked out the door without another word. He veered into the kitchen to give his glass a quick rinse, careful not to let his eyes wander to anything he didn’t want to see. A muffled sound came from the living room as he passed by.

"Mmmggddnntt, hhnnrryy."

"What was that, Blaise?"

"I said 'goodnight, Harry,'" Blaise lifted his mouth from Ginny's to declare cheerily.

“Goodnight, Blaise,” Harry replied with a wry smile. What an odd bunch they all made. It was sure to be an eventful trip.

 

***

 

"I can't believe you went through that whole song and – " Harry was cut off by Draco's lips sliding across his as he closed the door and shoved Harry against it. All of the things Harry had intended to say, all the scolding words he'd worked out in his mind as he trudged up the stairs, incensed and tight-lipped, evaporated as Draco's warm tongue explored Harry’s mouth, stroking across his own in all the ways that made Harry swoon. They broke for air, and Draco speared Harry with narrow, lustful eyes that made him – NO. He wasn't going to let Draco forget about this. "Draco, you can't just pin me to the door and make me forget – "

Draco smiled wickedly, and bent his head, licking across that sensitive spot on Harry's neck. He slipped a hand under his jumper to lightly pinch his left nipple. Harry gave up. There was no hope of finishing any sentence he might start.

"Wanker," Harry breathed, most of the word swallowed by the high-pitched whine he made when Draco sank his teeth into that space just between his neck and shoulder. He would have been embarrassed by how shameless he sounded if he was capable, but he wasn't capable of much right then. His legs were quickly growing too shaky to support his weight.

Draco laughed softly and purred in his ear, "I have a little game I'd like to play. Can you be a good boy for me, Harry?"

"Fuck." Harry arched up into Draco's palms against his chest, his eyes closing as his head hit the door with a soft thud.

"That wasn't an answer." Draco pinched his nipple harder, and Harry moaned. "Shhh, wouldn't want anyone to hear you, now would we? Thus begins the game. I'll ask you again. Can you be very good for me?"

"Yes, Draco. I'll be so good for you. Anything you want." Harry was very nearly breathless, and they hadn't even begun. He used to be shy about this, averting his eyes and blushing fiercely as Draco astutely sussed out all of Harry’s proclivities, never wanting to admit how much Draco’s praise made his whole body hot and pliant, how much he wanted and _needed_ to please Draco. But now it was easier. They’d been sleeping together for months, and Harry delighted in Draco’s sharp knack for knowing exactly how to take him apart.

"I want you to take off your clothes, bend over that bed, and spread your legs. I'm going to eat you out for as long as I want to. Suck and lick on you until you can't stand it anymore. I might let you come… if you do something for me,” Draco was composed, but there was an unmistakable gleam of excitement to his silver eyes.

"Oh?" Harry was nearly shaking in anticipation. He knew the nature of Draco’s power dynamics in the bedroom, the ebb and flow of control laced with desire both mysterious and palpable. Draco could reduce Harry to a sobbing mess of raw nerves before finally allowing him a release that always washed over him like powerful waves, crests and valleys that always felt like they would break him. Judging from the rapt expression Draco always wore as he watched Harry unravel, the softening of those steely eyes and how that perfect mouth would grow slack with awe, Harry imagined he must break very beautifully.

"You can't make a single sound. If you’re perfectly quiet and obedient, I’ll spell us into a solid fortress of silence. Then you can moan as wantonly as you want when you come on my cock,” Draco whispered, licking across that spot on Harry’s neck again, his hands possessively pinning Harry’s hips to the door.

Harry clamped his lips together and took a deep breath to suppress the groan bubbling up his throat. Draco stepped away, straightening his back and drawing up to his full height, arms crossed expectantly. He was gorgeous and imposing like that, tall and willowy with clothes that always impeccably draped his elegant frame. Harry had once told a puzzled Draco that he reminded him of David Bowie in the 70s, all chiseled angles and artfully tousled hair. “Trust me, it’s a good thing,” Harry had laughed as Draco frowned into his coffee.

Dutifully, Harry began to strip, aware that Draco would want him to take his time. Draco always loved watching him. Whether it was Harry riding him with hands braced on Draco’s chest or stroking himself to the edge of orgasm while Draco sat, maddeningly calm, in a chair at the foot of the bed, he could never take his eyes off Harry.

Harry removed his glasses and placed them on the nightstand before draping his stomach over the black comforter on the large bed, spreading his legs as wide as possible. Draco made a satisfied hum, but Harry didn’t dare turn around to meet his gaze. He knew better than that.

A fingertip trailed down the curve of his arse, and Harry shivered, recognizing the familiar sensation of goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin. He heard a rustle of clothing and the sound of knees on carpet. Then, he felt Draco’s hands prying his cheeks apart as he kneeled on the floor. It was interesting to Harry that Draco had chosen to do that; Harry imagined he was in the more comfortable position of the two right now. Then again, Draco was unpredictable, both when it came to what he deemed submissive and what thoughts would tumble from his eloquent mouth. It kept Harry guessing in a way he found irresistible.

Harry clawed at the comforter when Draco finally swiped his tongue across his entrance, feather-light and brief, pulling away just to test Harry’s patience. But Harry remained stalwart, taking measured breaths to steady himself. He was beginning to become accustomed to their dance. Although the form the steps took could often be surprising, they knew each other now, knew who they each became under the safe cover of night. Harry tried not to think too hard about what that meant. It wouldn’t do to dwell on that heartache right now, not when he had Draco on his knees and ready to –

Harry swallowed back a whimper just in time. Draco had caught him off guard, stroking the furled skin again, this time with broad, flat strokes of his tongue that were agonizingly slow, challenging Harry not to buck back into the touch. Harry froze as he heard the sounds of Hermione and Ron chatting while they walked up the stairs. Draco redoubled his efforts, switching to quick little laps, thrusting the tip of his tongue into the now relaxed flesh, finally breaching Harry until he had to bite his hand to stop from crying out.

_You bloody prat. You did that on purpose._

A door closed across the hall, and Draco paused in his ministrations, crawling onto the bed to whisper in Harry’s ear.

“Not losing your composure, are you? I’ll understand if you’d like to concede defeat before you embarrass yourself.” There was an amused lilt to his voice that straddled the line between mockery and affection.

Harry turned his head to fix Draco with a defiant glare.

“Never. Do your worst.”

“Your wish is my command, Harry.” Draco smirked before disappearing between Harry’s legs, licking and sucking on him with renewed vigor, the obscene sounds of Draco’s tongue laving across that intimate part of him making Harry light-headed. He was overwhelmingly turned on and beginning to regret having issued such a challenge.

Still, Harry kept quiet, face down on the bedspread to muffle his panting, his resolve tested yet again when Draco pulled back and suckled at Harry’s balls where they hung, heavy and sensitive, on the edge of the bed. Harry beat his fist against the mattress and heard a low, rumbling laugh coming from Draco. He folded himself over Harry’s back, nuzzling in his neck.

“Had enough yet, darling?”

Harry tried to shake his head but only succeeded in a non-committal jerky motion that didn’t lend itself to a clear answer.

“Normally, I might like to extend this. Make it an endurance test, see how long you could take it before everyone heard those delicious sounds you make. Merlin, I love the way you sound when I open you up with my tongue. Do you know that?” Draco covered the back of Harry’s neck with hungry kisses.

“Yes yes, fuck – Draco – please,” Harry stammered, hand reaching behind him to clutch at Draco’s hair, his shoulder, whatever he could reach.

“Please what, Harry?” Draco suggestively asked.

“Please fuck me. I want your cock, please, I _need_ it.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Draco stepped back, and Harry heard him casting charms, locking the door and making sure no one could hear them. “How would you like it, Harry?”

“On my back. Want to see you.” Harry turned around and watched Draco shedding his clothes, his lithe, pale frame everything Harry had never known he wanted. But Merlin, he did. _He really did._

Draco tipped the point of his wand into his palm and conjured a small amount of lube, coating two fingers in the liquid. Harry didn’t need to be told what to do. He lifted his knees toward his chest, reveling in the approving smile Draco gave at the sight. The pads of two long fingers drew teasing circles across Harry’s sensitive skin before pushing inside a couple inches, leisurely moving in and out to allow Harry to adjust.

“You don’t really have to do that. It’s not like you didn’t already fuck me once today.” Harry looked into Draco’s eyes, lurid and heavy-lidded, and wrapped his hand around his own cock, giving it a few languid tugs. Draco licked his lips, his eyes following the movement.

“I did, didn’t I?” Draco canted his head and arched a brow, suddenly thrusting his fingers all the way in and rubbing across Harry’s prostate. Harry’s back bowed off the bed, his hand involuntarily tightening around his cock.

He gasped, half from the pleasure coursing through him, radiating from that sensitive spot inside him, and half from the memory of that morning. They had fucked on Harry’s kitchen table, the metal feet skidding across the tile as Draco took him fast and hard, Harry’s hands clutching at Draco’s shoulders, Draco’s panting breath hot and urgent against his ear. Ron and Hermione had arrived only ten minutes after they finished. They really were being increasingly careless these days…

“But I like you relaxed, and you know I can’t resist you begging for it.” Draco crooked his fingers again, and a new wave of sensation pulsed through Harry. He squeezed the base of his cock to halt his arousal. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to come before Draco gave him what he wanted.

“You’re such a bastard. If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Draco murmured, kissing the inside of Harry’s thighs, scraping his teeth along the soft skin as he stroked his fingers across that bundle of nerves yet again.

“Unnfff, I’ll… I’ll dissolve the charms so everyone can hear what we’re really doing.” Harry did his best to look intimidating. It wasn’t easy to accomplish when Draco had his fingers hilt-deep inside him, but if Draco’s face was any indication, he was managing just fine.

“You wouldn’t.” Draco’s fingers stilled, and Harry suddenly worried he’d gone too far.

Fuck it. Harry was tired of hiding anyway. Let him think he was serious. He was curious what Draco would do.

“Oh yes, I would.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, evaluating Harry’s authenticity, and then he broke out into a grin of admiration.

“You clever boy. You always get what you want, don’t you?”

Harry didn’t respond. There was something loaded, almost foreboding about the way Draco said it.

Without another word, Draco slicked his hard cock and pulled him closer, folding Harry’s legs over his shoulders. He entered him slowly, Harry’s body stretching around his length. Harry threw back his head with a soft groan when Draco was fully seated within him. He’d always loved that feeling of initial entry, going from empty to so full of someone else, your bodies joined in this way that seemed impossible and starkly sacred, the shape of him expanding and changing all for Draco. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Draco began to pull out and push back in, his hands caressing Harry’s thighs, his lips kissing the inside of his knee. He’d been like this a lot lately. Tender and just… _closer_. Like he was afraid Harry might slip through his hands at any moment. Maybe Harry was imagining it, but –

“Fuck!” Harry moaned as Draco pushed Harry’s knees to his chest, bending him in half and fucking into him more vigorously. Draco’s cock always hit him in all the right places from this angle, and he was grateful for the silencing charms. Merlin knew he was going to be a wailing mess now. After a few minutes, Draco released Harry’s legs and wrapped them around his waist. Harry followed his cue, linking his ankles around Draco’s lower back, happy to have him so close.

“Do you like that they don’t know what I’m doing to you right now?” Draco licked at Harry’s neck and sucked on his earlobe. “That you’re letting me fuck you a few feet away? That you beg me to give you my cock?”

“Bloody fucking hell, Draco.” Harry made a noise that was some guttural combination of a laugh and a desperate, desperate whimper. “Please touch me. Please, please, please make me come.”

He knew he was begging pathetically, could hear the needy whine of his own voice, but it didn’t matter. The look of pure worship on Draco’s face, however fleeting, was worth it.

“You always beg so beautifully,” Draco sighed, reaching between their sweat-slicked bodies to grip Harry’s erection, wasting no time in frantically stroking him. It barely even took a minute for Harry to spill, hot and sticky, on Draco’s hand, moaning so damn loudly he half-worried his magic would rip through the charms like they didn’t even exist.

He felt his arse clench around Draco’s cock. A few seconds later, Draco’s grip around Harry’s shoulders tightened in that telltale way, and Harry felt his cock pulsing inside him, Draco’s sweet, melodious moans filling his ear. How he always managed to sound so perfect and seductive when he came was beyond Harry. By comparison, Harry was fairly certain he sounded like a dying banshee. 

“Mmm, Harry,” Draco whispered, his voice full of sated bliss. “Excellent beginning to a holiday.”

“The best,” Harry agreed with a smile. Draco gave him a quick kiss on the lips and carefully pulled out, spelling them both clean. 

Harry stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

“Tired?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

“You mean a long day of you lying on your back and getting fucked?” Draco rolled onto his side and leaned on his elbow, head propped in the heel of his hand.

“Yeah well, I didn’t exactly hear you complaining.” Harry folded his hands behind his head and cast a smug glance in Draco’s direction. Draco smiled warmly.

“Not in the slightest. Sleep?”

Harry nodded, fatigue already beginning to take him. They both got under the covers, instinctively curling around each other, Harry’s chest to Draco’s back and his knees slotted behind Draco’s. They fit together so well. Remembering that they couldn’t do this every day, Harry felt a pervasive ache deep in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it away and tried to take comfort in the fact that they were spending this weekend together. The cabin in the woods was pretty idyllic, and Draco seemed so carefree at the moment. Who knows? Maybe Harry would get what he wanted before the end of this trip. A lot could happen in three days.

 

***

 

Harry blinked groggily in the dark. It was that all-encompassing blackness one could only find in the country, the total absence of streetlights making everything a little more shrouded in mystery.

What were those grunts? It sounded like animals –

“Blaise!”

Oh no… no, it couldn’t be. Harry’s jaw fell open in horror as he realized what he was hearing. As his eyes focused, he realized Draco was awake now too. They both sat up against the wall, cringing as they heard a few strings of “yes, yes, yes” from Ginny.

“Oh, this is fucking ridiculous! They’re wizards, for Merlin’s sake! There’s no excuse!” Draco threw the covers back and marched over to the wall that joined their rooms. He pounded on it, punctuating each furious word with a slam of his fist. “Learn! Better! Silencing! Charms! You! Sloppy! Horny! Gits!”

There was a gasp from both of them as they realized they’d been caught, and then they both dissolved into giggles.

“Sorry, Draco!” Blaise shouted between peals of laughter.

“Fuck off!” Draco banged on the wall one last time, and Harry chuckled. The sight of a naked Draco, soft cock bouncing between his legs as he pounded on the wall like an elderly neighbor who can’t stand the young whippersnappers next door, was an undeniably comic sight. “What are you snickering about?”

Draco shivered as he slid back into the warm bed. The place was well heated, but it was still too cold to be wandering about in the nude for long stretches of time.

“Nothing. Come here.” Harry opened his arms, and Draco immediately slid back into his embrace. Harry nosed into the crook of Draco’s neck, his arm wrapped around his slim stomach. Despite still being very tired, his cock twitched with interest as it rubbed against Draco’s arse. “I like holding you…”

He felt Draco stiffen in his arms and knew that was a mistake.

“You just like your cock against my arse,” Draco protested, demonstrating with a half-hearted press back against Harry’s crotch. Always deflecting with a joke when things got too emotional. They fell into silence for a few moments, and Harry debated whether or not to say anything further. But he knew it was no use. Draco was particularly grumpy when he didn’t get enough sleep. There was no way he would take kindly to an argument about their arrangement at this hour.

Harry sighed sleepily and closed his eyes.

 

***

 

The next morning, everyone decided to go outside for sledding and general winter frolicking, but Harry elected to stay behind and help Ron in the kitchen. He had been very insistent on making a huge brunch for everyone, but Harry knew better than to leave him to his own devices. Draco had given him a warning look. It was clear that he didn’t particularly fancy hanging out with everyone without Harry there with him. Blaise was the only one in the group that he was truly close with. 

“Do you want to come back to a cabin that’s on fire, the smell of burnt bacon everywhere?” Harry had whispered to him. Draco sighed, conceding Harry’s point with a short nod.

“Point taken, but I swear, if those two,” Draco had said, motioning to Ginny and Blaise with a stern finger, “Pull any of their disgusting breeder nonsense in front of me, I’m suffocating them in the snow.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very dramatic?” Harry couldn’t resist remarking with a smile.

“Yes, you. Nearly every damn day.”

Now, Harry was thwarting culinary disasters at every turn. Ron appeared to have no concept of what heat level to cook each dish, and every time anything powdery (flour, sugar, baking soda) found its way into Ron’s hands, it sort of… exploded in an expansive cloud that landed on every surrounding surface. Harry was casting cleaning and cooling charms in so many directions, his wand arm was beginning to get tired. He pitied Blaise’s beautiful kitchen.

Finally, with everything that needed to be baked resting comfortably in the oven on the _proper_ temperature and all skillets no longer threatening to start a grease fire, Harry collapsed on a stool beside the kitchen island.

“I think we’ve earned ourselves a drink!” Ron exclaimed, his whole face looking weary from the morning’s haphazard activities.

Harry glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel behind them.

“It’s only just now noon,” Harry laughed, but accepted the small tumbler of whiskey Ron slid his way all the same.

“I have enough Irish in me that I feel perfectly alright saying there’s always time for whiskey.”

They cheers-ed and each took a sip, relaxing in silence for a minute.

“So… did you sleep well? Or… I dunno… do anything else well?” Ron waggled his eyebrows, and Harry blushed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Wait, you didn’t hear anything, did you?!” Harry felt the color draining from his face as he wondered if maybe he did really break through the silencing charms. And besides that, for Ron’s sake, he really hoped he hadn’t heard his sister.

“No, you know me. Out like a rock. Could probably sleep through a parade running through my bedroom. I think it’s a survival instinct you get when you have about a hundred siblings. BUT,” Ron said, pointing an accusatory finger at Harry, “Hermione asked me the same thing and got all cagey when I asked why. So naturally, I assumed you and the ferret finally got to it.”

“Why would you think – and hey, what do you mean, _finally_?!” Harry ran a hand over the back of his neck which had begun to sweat.

“Oh come on, Harry, I might not be like ‘Mione when it comes to noticing things, but I’m not blind. None of us are. I’m your best friend. I know you. I see how you look at him, and I see how you tease each other. It’s not like it used to be. It’s more… flirty now. And he’s a fit bloke or – I think he is?” Ron’s features twisted into some combination of confusion and awkwardness. “I’m shit at judging that, but it seems like people think he is. You spend an _awful_ lot of time together, and it just… seems inevitable.”

Harry took a deep breath. Suddenly, his friends’ coy comments about the sleeping arrangements made sense. Harry hated to admit it, but he really could be very thick sometimes. Sod it all, he wasn’t going to blatantly lie to his friend. Draco didn’t get to dictate who he told about his love life.

“Alright, look… please don’t say anything because he doesn’t want anyone to know, but… we’ve been sleeping together since Neville’s birthday party.”

“Merlin! That’s almost five months, Harry! Why doesn’t he want anyone to know?”

They both finished their whiskeys, and Ron poured them two more.

“I don’t know… he’s really vague about it. Claims there’s nothing to tell because we’re just sleeping together, and why would we bother with telling everyone when it’s not serious?” Harry deflated in his seat, heart sinking as he was reminded of how much more he wanted from Draco.

“I think I can pretty well tell, but… how do you feel about that?” Ron gave him a look of concern, and relief rushed through Harry. It felt good to be able to talk about this with someone he trusted, even if it meant facing things he’d been trying to compartmentalize.

“I want to be with him. I like him. _So_ much. You’re right, we do have this kind of – I don’t know – exciting back and forth. He’s clever and funny, and he keeps me on my toes. He challenges me, and I challenge him too. And I _know_ he loves that as much as I do.” Harry stared down into the amber liquid in his tumbler, slowly rotating the glass in his hand. “Sometimes it feels like he wants it too, but he’s just too scared to say. And honestly? I’m too scared to ask. I don’t want him to leave.”

Ron didn’t say anything for a bit, taking a thoughtful sip of whiskey and chewing on his bottom lip.

“Here’s the thing, Harry. It’s terrifying as hell to have that conversation. You’ve been friends for a long time, you like them in your life, but – you don’t want to lose that, yeah?”

“You and Hermione,” Harry said with an understanding nod.

“Exactly. I know how much of a gamble that is because I’ve been there, but mate… you’ll regret it forever if you don’t take that risk. Now that said, be _sure_ this is what you want. When you have that much history and you care about the person as much you clearly do, you _have_ to be sure. It isn’t a move you want to make lightly, you know?”

“Yeah… yeah, I do.” Harry smiled gratefully and raised his glass. Ron clinked his to it, and they each took a hearty gulp. “Thanks, Ron.”

“Anytime, Harry. But _please_ tell me that if he rejects you, I can finally punch his pointy face?”

“Deal.”

 

***

 

When they were all having post-dinner drinks in the living room, everyone laughing and at ease from a relaxing day and plenty of wine, Harry made his move.

“Hey, can we go upstairs for a bit?” Harry whispered, taking a moment to admire the way the gentle glow of the fire highlighted Draco’s unfairly gorgeous cheekbones.

Draco smiled flirtatiously, and Harry shook his head.

“No, I just want to talk… if that’s okay?” Harry tried for a reassuring look, but he could tell his nerves were shining through.

“Um… yeah, sure.” Draco’s eyes darkened a bit, a rare display of worry, but he set down his wine glass, and the two of them quietly slipped away. Thankfully, their friends were happily drunk and distracted, shooting fleeting glances their way but not quizzing them about where they were going.

When they got to their bedroom, Harry closed the door and sat down on the bed. Draco remained standing, arms crossed as he dubiously gazed down at Harry.

“So what is this all about?”

“Would you come sit down?” Harry smiled and patted the spot on the bed next to him. Draco could be quite intimidating, and Harry didn’t need him towering over him when he was already nervous.

Draco obliged, and Harry ran his perspiring hands down the front of his jeans.

_You can do this, Harry. You fought a basilisk and the most powerful dark wizard of all time before you were old enough to drink in a pub. You can tell Draco Malfoy how you feel about him._

Harry tried to take a few breaths and form articulate, precise sentences, but what came out instead was, “Iwantyoutobemyboyfriendokay?”

“What?” Draco looked at him quizzically, and Harry realized that he genuinely hadn’t been able to parse the meaning of the garbled words that had tumbled out of Harry’s mouth.

“Er,” Harry cleared his throat and tried again, “I want – you – and me – to be together. Not just sex. A real relationship.”

Draco leaned back on the heels of his hands and let out a long, slow breath.

“We’ve talked about this, Harry… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But why?” Harry finally turned so he was facing Draco properly. Draco’s eyes were downcast, a defeated droop to his patrician features.

“Because you’re you, and I’m me.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be dense, Harry.”

“I’m not!”

“We come with a lot of baggage and keeping things the way they are, with low stakes and no people to prod and stare, no _Prophet_ , no friends judging us, it’s…” Draco ran a tired hand down his face. “I don’t want that to go away. Once we’re out in the open, all bets are off.”

Harry noticed something very important about what Draco had said.

“So it’s not that you don’t want _me_? It’s about everything else?”

Draco glared at him.

“You’re about to say ‘don’t be so dense’ again, aren’t you?” Harry broke out into a grin, and Draco returned it. Harry’s shoulders relaxed from the hunched position he didn’t realize they’d been in.

“I like you. I like _us_ , but I just wanted to preserve the peace a little longer. Wanted to keep that safe little bubble intact for as long as we could. And maybe… maybe I needed to wait a while to make sure you weren’t going to change your mind about me.” Draco leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder with a sigh, and Harry leaned his cheek against the top of Draco’s head, his arm coming to fold around his shoulders. Draco’s words tugged at his heartstrings.

“I’m not going to change my mind, Draco. I’m absolutely crazy about you. But as for people not knowing… well, it’s a bit late for that. Ron knows.”

Draco lifted his head, his mouth falling open to object, but Harry interjected.

“Before you say anything, trust me, he didn’t really need me to confirm it. I’m pretty sure Hermione knows too.”

“Nothing gets past her, does it?”

“Well, to be fair, you weren’t helping anything by winking at me across rooms and wanking me off under blankets.”

“Apparently, I self-sabotage without even knowing it. Can’t help it though. You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed and turned on. Tempting combination.” Draco smirked and lifted his head to plant a kiss on Harry’s neck. “So what did Weasley say about all this? I’m not exactly his favorite person.”

“He said that I had to be sure about what I wanted because our history is too complicated to be careless with you. And that I’d regret it if I didn’t tell you how I felt.”

“Strangely sage advice coming from him.” Draco’s forehead wrinkled, but there was a twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“He’s surprising like that sometimes. So are we…” Harry’s free hand nervously tugged at the edge of his jumper.

“Boyfriends? It appears so.”

Harry felt Draco’s smile against his shoulder, and his whole body flooded with relief. Thank Merlin this had been easier than he thought it would be.

“Should we go back downstairs?”

“Are you kidding? We might have made it verbally official, but that isn’t the kind of official that matters the most, is it?” Draco trailed a hand up Harry’s thigh and licked at the tender skin of his neck. Harry moaned and shivered, his arm tightening around Draco.

“You’re absolutely right.” Harry grinned and fell back onto the bed, pulling Draco on top of him.

 

***

 

Draco stroked down Harry’s chest, tracing invisible patterns on the smooth skin. Harry folded his hand around Draco’s elegant fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He kissed the knuckles of each one.

“Do you think they heard us?”

“Probably. You always talk about my shameless moaning, but you’re the reason my downstairs neighbor gets out the broom,” Harry laughed.

Draco scowled at Harry, pinching his thigh in retaliation.

“That argyle jumper wearing old man is just jealous.”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t be?” Harry lovingly gazed at the beautiful man draped across his chest, and Draco smiled up at him. “Should we hide up here the rest of the night?”

“After everything the Weaslette and that Slytherin twat have put us through? Fuck no. I’m not cowering in mortification.” Draco sat up and reached for his jumper amid the clothes that were strewn across the bed.

“That Slytherin twat is one of your best friends.” Harry propped up on his elbows and looked around, trying to identify which clothes were his.

“Well, he’s still a twat. Let’s go into this with a bang. I’m a Malfoy. I was bred to make a splash. Let them see us well-shagged and happy.” Harry watched Draco slip into his form-fitting black trousers, and his heart thumped in his chest. This was clearly Draco’s way of proving just how much he really wanted to be in this relationship.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

 

***

 

“Harry and I have been seeing each other for a while, but it’s official now. I’ve always found ‘boyfriend’ to be… you know,” Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste, “A pitifully pedestrian term, but until they invent a better one, I guess that’s what we are. So make your idiotic jokes, raise your concerns, be all manner of annoying since I know you’re all chomping at the bit.”

Draco waved his hand at the group and rolled his eyes in exasperation, lifting his wine glass to his lips. Harry laughed as Draco nearly choked on the liquid when the entire group piled on him in a big, sloppy, drunken hug. They all uttered various forms of congratulation.

“I bloody knew it! You both think you’re oh so clever, but we all have _eyes_. And ears!!! Unless you were moving furniture up there, I’m pretty sure you made good use of that bed just now.” Ginny exclaimed.

“Honestly, thinking you could ever keep it a secret from me was the most clueless move either of you have ever made. And that’s _really_ saying something,” Hermione laughed.

Draco gaped at Harry, but he only shrugged, a huge grin plastered on his face. He knew Draco struggled to feel at ease among Harry’s friends, always fretting over everyone holding onto the darker shades of his past, but no one really did. Draco was the only one who needed to let go of all that. But as Harry watched him soften, his look of terror relaxing into an awkward smile as he loosely returned the group hug, he realized Draco was well on his way.

After a couple minutes of this, Draco went from muttering half-hearted protests to groaning, “If all of you don’t get off me in the next ten seconds, it’s tongue-tied curses all around.” Everyone released him, Ginny playfully ruffling his hair as he glowered, and Draco came to sit by Harry. He seemed hesitant to snuggle against him at first but eventually melted into Harry’s arms, joining in on the amiable conversation as they all drank around the fire. Harry squeezed Draco’s waist and planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Happy Christmas, Draco.”

“It isn’t Christmas for over a week, you berk,” Draco said with a teasing elbow to Harry’s ribs.

“Maybe… but this feels like Christmas to me.” Harry kissed the puzzled look off his boyfriend’s face. He was warm from head to toe, and he didn’t think it was just from the fire.  


End file.
